


don't fight it

by Anonymous



Series: it's inevitable, baby [4]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Comeplay, M/M, kinda premature ejaculation I guess but really just like even max's jizz simps for lando, overcommitment to 'the bit', where the bit is being disgustingly head-over-heels in love with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25829695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It’s not particularly that he thinks of Lando as the girl or whatever (Max is fairly resigned to the fact girl isn’t something he’s into, likes Lando because he’s a boy) but it’s kind of nice that he sometimes seems to fall into that role, lets Max be a traditional boyfriend or whatever. Lando’s much more ok with being weird than he can pretend he is.So he gets to buy Lando presents and sweep him off his feet - sometimes literally - and Max gets the validation that it’s all accepted and Lando likes him back. Max can’t believe he’s real half the time, let alone that Max gets to fuck him and he’s not great at showing appreciation, sometimes. Maybe.
Relationships: Lando Norris/Max Verstappen
Series: it's inevitable, baby [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861756
Comments: 16
Kudos: 120
Collections: Anonymous





	don't fight it

**Author's Note:**

> genuinely upset that this'll have to be the second-to-last part of this because I'm literally running out of lyrics in the song to use as titles. fortunately Mando themselves will have probably just snogged on the podium by then if the simp wars continue to escalate.

It’s not particularly that he thinks of Lando as _the girl_ or whatever (Max is fairly resigned to the fact _girl_ isn’t something he’s into, likes Lando _because_ he’s a boy) but it’s kind of nice that he sometimes seems to fall into that role, lets Max be a _traditional_ boyfriend or whatever. Lando’s much more ok with being weird than he can pretend he is.

So he gets to buy Lando presents and sweep him off his feet - sometimes literally - and Max gets the validation that it’s all _accepted_ and Lando likes him back. Max can’t believe he’s real half the time, let alone that Max gets to fuck him and he’s not great at showing appreciation, sometimes. Maybe. 

He’s pretty certain Lando loves him from the way he’s asleep in Max’s lap, Max’s fingers combing through his hair. Lando’s only wearing a t-shirt, totally naked from the waist down because Max couldn’t resist yanking his leggings off and fucking him with his fingers as soon as he was done working out, Max enjoying lolling on the sofa watching Lando get sweaty and ripped.

Now he’s sprawled across Max, right arm round his waist and Lando’s face nuzzled distractingly into his inner thighs, breath warm and even. He’s so _small,_ compared to Max, so slightly built it seems impossible they do the same job even while Lando’s arm round Max feels strong, bicep curled over Max’s hip with a sort of possessive aggression. 

Max is petting Lando’s scalp, through his hair and the way he’s relaxed onto him is _so_ lovely, Lando’s sleeping face so pretty, elegant cheekbones and the curve of his mouth against Max’s shorts and the way his eyelashes shift while he’s dreaming. 

He’s been trying to work out when to give Lando the ring, after he’d asked for it. Had the stupid thing in a little velvet bag in his pocket for days now, both too excited to give it and too nervous about Lando liking it to actually do it, even though they’ve just been hanging out at Lando’s house this whole time, between simulator sessions and stupid PR golf or whatever.

Max moves his free hand really, really carefully, almost like he’s pickpocketing himself, until his fingertip touches the drawstring and he can drag it out, opening it with one side of the thread held in his teeth. 

Lando’s left hand is flopped down by his thigh and Max has to sort of coax it up so he can find Lando’s ring finger, then repeatedly uncurl Lando’s hand when it wraps around his and Max should probably stop stroking his hair to make this easier but that’s not really ever been his style. 

He gets it done eventually, gently easing it down over Lando’s knuckles and admiring the way it stands out against his skin. Max had been thinking about something black or silver, titanium maybe or that sort of brushed steel look so no one asked what it was, then when he was standing in the jewellers they all looked stupid and not at _all_ Lando. How could he get some gun-metal-grey, dull thing for a boy who loves neon?

So the obnoxious, chrome-y rose gold was it. It’s plain, rectangular cut at the edges, nothing feminine about it and the colour _almost_ blends into Lando’s tan. 

“Hey,” Lando’s blinking up at him, rolling over on Max’s lap, “Oh - wow.”

“You like it?” Max’s heart is racing, nervous in a way he rarely feels. “I can - you don’t have to have this one, if you don’t-”

“Max.” Lando brings their hands down, so he can look at the ring without letting go of Max’s fingers. “It’s awesome.”

There’s no point trying to hide the fact he’s blushing, looking down at Lando. “I figure - I don’t know when we’ll actually, you know, get it done because of all this bullshit but kind of official?”

“Yeah.” Lando’s blushing too, in that glowing way and his smile is very toothy, lips pink and wet. “It looks so cool, thank you.”

Lando breaks eye contact to look at his own hand, tilting it to see the band catch the light. “It’s colourful, like you.”

He nods without taking his eyes off the ring, settling in on Max’s lap. “You’re such a fucking sap, Max. I love you.”

\------

“Wuh-” Lando’s staggeringly oblivious sometimes, easy for Max to ambush to shove up against the shipping containers. It’d look like roughhousing, if anyone saw them but Max definitely doesn’t have an innocent wrestle in mind. 

“I love you.” He’s not fucking around, here, right hand already wet with lube when Max reaches behind Lando and makes him squeak, fingers going straight down the back of his thermals where his suit’s wrapped round his waist. “You look so hot when you’ve got this halfway down.”

“ _Max._ ” Lando’s head thunks against the container, leaning back with his eyes closed, “Fuck, that feels good.”

Max grins, pressing close enough to hide exactly where his hand is but not quite right up against Lando, slightly to the side of him. Lando shivers, hands falling down to grasp at air and dropping his water bottle with a dull clunk while Max’s fingertips play wetly over his hole, teasing to sensitise him before he pushes them in.

“Fuck - _fuck,_ Max. You better be looking out for anyone coming.” Lando leans against him, shifting to let Max get a better angle and if it weren’t for the stupid masks they could easily be kissing right now, Max’s fingers rubbing inside Lando to make him whine.

“It’s you that’s coming, don’t worry.” Lando’s so beautiful like this, Max doesn’t get how he can just _relax,_ take Max’s fingers and enjoy it so much but Lando’s body is as soft and open as his blissful expression. It makes Max want to fuck him, if they weren’t barely-hidden but he doesn’t want to spoil the moment of Lando just being _slutty_ for him, too, rising on the balls of his feet so he can fuck himself on Max’s fingers, hands grasping at the metal side of the shipping container. 

His fingers are being crushed, squeezed in the tight heat of Lando’s body and the smooth, slick feel of him is making Max’s thoughts swim. Touching _inside_ Lando feels so intimate, so possessive, only Max gets to be there and it sends him wild for doing things to him no one else can, the way Lando loves it.

Max presses a hand over his dick, feels how hard Lando is through his race suit. “You’re so fucking sexy, Lando.”

His fingers clearly reach somewhere _good,_ at the same time as Max shoves his palm against Lando’s crotch, holding his dick down against his own stomach and forcing Lando back onto where Max is stroking inside him. “Ah - oh fuck, Max. You know Jon’s gonna notice I’m covered in lube - _fuck,_ there, more.”

Their masks are in the way of being able to push his face against Lando's to share the same air and Max doesn’t particularly want to take them off, trying to keep them looking as normal from a distance as possible, albeit his hand over Lando’s dick isn’t massively subtle. But he can’t resist pressing up against Lando, now, Max using his body to shove Lando onto his fingers harder.

“Like Jon hasn’t seen way worse - c’mon, come, you’re so lovely like this.” Lando groans, knocking his head off the container again and Max would be worried about concussion but he’s too busy being fond of the way Lando _always_ comes when Max tells him to, rubbing his prostate to draw it out and make his thermals wet with spunk under Max’s hand. 

“Ugh, god - I’ve got to do interviews. That was so good.” Max grins, under his mask, watching Lando shiver as Max gently withdraws his fingers, plays them over his hole again to draw out the afterglow and if Max didn’t know there’d already be people looking for them, he’d press them straight back in to make Lando come a second time, oversensitised.

Max takes his hand back, wipes it on his own race suit. “Your arse is so hot. Don’t shower, I want to fuck you later.” Lando groans because Max knows he’s got hours of debrief and tear down to go and equally that Lando will do it because he’s a total sucker for Max when it comes to anything horny. 

He isn’t expecting Lando to half-flop against him, arms round Max’s waist but he gets soppy after an orgasm sometimes, leaning his head against Max’s chest. “I love you.”

Max strokes a hand down his back, between Lando’s shoulder blades, “I know.”

\-----

Max’s hotel room in Barcelona is ridiculous. It’s huge, the bed is palatial and it’s a fucking four-poster. Ridiculous.

Lando is testing the bounce on the mattress, flopping into it on his back and briefly disappearing into the duvet. “Ha! This is so dumb. What the fuck?”

Max shrugs, crawling onto the bed to join him, moving over Lando. “It’s kinda cool, like Game of Thrones.”

The snort of laughter is _extremely_ clear about whether Lando thinks Game of Thrones is cool. “ _Right._ Still good for fucking, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Max leans down on him, lines their bodies up so he’s bracketing Lando in, resting between his legs. “You’re horny already?”

Lando snickers, giggling and rubbing up against Max, arching his back to flex and force Max down on him more. “Yeah. We’re in your bed, it’s a fucking heatwave, I wanna get dicked.”

Max groans, buries his face in Lando’s shoulder. “Fuck.”

“That’s the idea, yeah.” Lando sounds wily, teasing, as he brings his hands up to Max’s shoulders and pulls him bodily down onto Lando. “Like you don’t want to fuck me already.”

Max flails for Lando’s left hand, kisses up his fingers before sucking the tip of the middle on into his mouth. “I want to fuck you all the time.”

He pushes himself up on his hands, only ducks back down to kiss Lando twice before he gets some sense of self-restraint or urgency or something and manages to disentangle them enough to get off the bed and dig around in his luggage for the lube. 

Lando’s sweatpants hit the floor over the side of the bed at the same time as Max gets back, stepping over his hoodie to get there. If it’s like that, then, Max takes the time to shuck his own clothes off before he climbs on the mattress, where Lando’s reclining in the pillows with his legs obscenely open, stroking his own dick with a loose hand. 

He looks gorgeous, the ring standing out on the hand on his dick and Max is so hard he feels like the blood’s gone out of the entire rest of his body. Lando’s a twinky, muscular vision of obscene hotness, as always, eyes shining where he’s looking at Max, scraping his own eyes down Max’s body but the ring showing he’s said he’ll be Max’s, forever, is sexier than even the debauched way he’s sprawling, looking cocky about how turned on Max is.

Max slicks up his fingers, goes straight to what Lando wants him to do while he uses his clean hand to cup the back of Lando’s head and kiss him. Lando sighs when Max’s fingers enter him, like it’s some sort of sweet relief, like all the time Max isn’t inside him he’s dying or craving it desperately. 

“Ah, _ohh,_ Max, it’s so good.” Max kisses his neck, pushes his fingers deeper into Lando to get more breathy, high-pitched whines out of him. “Fuck, _fuck,_ Max, I need you to fuck me _right now_.”

Max pulls his fingers back, shifts them around until he can fuck into Lando and it’s as good as it always feels when his dick’s being squeezed by tight, soft heat. Until Lando brings his left hand up to Max’s face and he feels the ring against his cheek while Lando’s throwing his head back and thrusting back against Max, forcing him deeper and Max is _fucked._

“Oh - _god._ ” He’s never come this fast in his _life_ but he can’t stop it, nearly collapsing onto Lando, panting and thrusting through it, hands gripping Lando’s hips hard. 

Lando’s hand is still on Max’s face when he opens eyes, fingers cupping his cheek and thumb against Max’s lower lip and Lando’s giving him that glowing look of genuine wonder he has sometimes, grinning. “ _Max._ ”

Max closes his eyes again, shakes his head. “Shit. Sorry, I really thought that’d last longer.”

“Mmm, it’s kind of sweet.” Lando pushes at him, gently, “But you really need to get me off.”

He has to take a few moments to rest on Lando, before he pulls out and kneels back, presses his fingers into Lando instead. “You wanted to be fucked, right?”

Lando’s too busy moaning for a second, flopping back into the pillows and already fucking himself on Max’s hand. “Yes, god - fuck, Max.”

Max pulls his fingers back, teasing and fucking them back into Lando and it makes a drop of his cum slide down his knuckle, warm from their bodies. Max is close enough to having just come to still be turned on, possessive and hot for seeing himself leaking out of Lando. 

“Fuck - harder, there.” Max curls his fingers, pressing on the swollen, smooth nub that makes Lando lose his mind. Then pulls them back again, fucking in and out of him to watch the way his jizz smears and drips on his fingers, Lando full of him. It’s mesmerisingly hot, Lando so wet with his spunk and clutching at the sheets, rose gold stark against million-thread-count cotton.

“God, you look great.” Max knows Lando likes praise, gets off on the idea of Max getting off on him, “Look at you, you’ve got my cum dripping out of you and you’re a slut for my fingers right _there._ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Lando sobs it, clenching around Max’s knuckles as Max rubs hard on his prostate, makes him writhe, thighs shifting and breath heaving out in wet bursts. “Fuck, _fuck,_ yes.”

Max keeps up the pressure, keeps Lando arching his spine and forcing Max’s fingers deeper and harder into him while he comes all up his own abs. His hands are gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles are white and there’s sweat on his thighs underneath the smears of lube and spunk, Lando’s face a picture of rapture, mouth hanging open to gasp hotly for air.

He carries on, rubbing until Lando pushes his thighs together, tries to shove Max away because he’s so sensitive. “Oh fuck, god. Why are you so good at that?”

Max shrugs, while wiping his hand on Lando’s thigh because romantic deficiency kind of _is_ their romance. “I’m pretty sure it’s because it’s you.”

Lando hums, exhaling heavily, “Mmm, with you.”

Bending down to kiss Lando’s stomach, lick the streaks of jizz of him, feels awkward even if Max really wants to do it, to feel Lando’s muscles shift under his lips. Until Lando’s hand is in his hair, tugging him up so Lando can cup Max’s face, press the ring against his cheek again. 

Max closes his eyes, settling down on his side so they can tangle up together, Lando’s knee between Max’s thighs and Max’s arm around his waist. Lando’s face is pressed into his collarbone, breath on Max’s neck and Max’s nose is full of the scent of Lando’s shower gel, buried in his hair. 

There’s not a fucking chance they’re making it out of this season in the closet and for a second, Max’s breath catches at the thought, pulls Lando closer. Lando’s fingers press harder on his face and Max almost starts giggling because they’re _so_ fucking screwed.


End file.
